


And So There Will Be Peace

by waystiels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blurry Woman (Supernatural: Carry On) is Eileen Leahy, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Dean got his tetanus shots, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Episode: s15e20 Carry On, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Jack Kline is a Winchester, Jack calls Castiel dad, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Miracle is the best Winchester, Other, Party City wig flew
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29000481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waystiels/pseuds/waystiels
Summary: Sam and Dean get the lives theydeserve, not the ones the writers gave them.Dean still dies from a rebar, so we still get The Speech, but it isn't permanent this time. Saileen and Destiel have domestic moments and angsty moments.I don't own any characters or plot from Supernatural, I am simply writing an interpretation
Relationships: Castiel & Eileen Leahy, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy & Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 20





	1. Ordinary Life

**Author's Note:**

> 15.20 Carry On rewrite, because the ending left a _lot _to be desired.__  
>  I have written two versions of this. They are the same story, however, the other version has no Destiel. If that is what you'd prefer to read, it will be posted later.
> 
>   
> **DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE FINALE**

Dean reached over and smacked the blaring alarm clock, a groan of complaint sounding from the pillow. He sat up, immediately welcomed by a slobbery kiss on his face.

“Hey buddy!” he exclaimed endearingly. “Good morning.” He buried his fingers in the long, wiry fur of his current source of happiness; Miracle, a stray dog he fell in love with immediately.

He took a vinyl from his collection—Van Morrison’s _Hymns to the Silence_ —placing it carefully into his record player. _Ordinary Life_ began playing. A song that fit perfectly into the day, given they were finally settled after defeating God himself. Dean turned it up so it rang throughout the bunker.

Coffee was at the top of Dean’s priority list, so he sleepily made his way to the kitchen, Miracle instinctively following behind.

Eileen stood at the stove, eggs and bacon cooking in their pans. Dean tapped her shoulder to get her attention, “Where’s Sam?” he asked, taking care to enunciate his words so Eileen could understand.

“Out for a run. I’m making breakfast now so it’ll be done when he’s back.” She checked the food, flipping the bacon when it began to sizzle.

“You are completely out of my brother’s league,” he commented, using a phrase he’d said to Sam’s first love, many years ago. A smile graced Eileen’s face and she scoffed affectionately.

“Coffee pot’s fresh,” she told him and continued cooking.

Dean poured himself a cup and took long sips, savouring every drop. _Man. Without coffee, Sam would be dead a hundred times over,_ he thought.

A couple walked past Sam, the small child toddling happily between the pair. Sam didn’t stare but he looked on longingly. A family to call his own was something he’d dreamed of since before Stanford. Before everything changed. Of course, he had gained that somewhere along the line. Now, however, he had a person to settle down with and live a life where they could be safe.

He paused his music and looked out at the view; a lake, dotted with lilies and wildlife, a public trail where families took their morning strolls, a coffee truck that had only just opened for the day. Fresh air filled his lungs and he smiled, appreciative of the second chance he was given when Jack brought his lover back, along with the rest of the world.

Turning around to make the run back home, Sam bumped into a man with a long coat. Inappropriate attire for exercise, so he assumed this man was taking a walk. Alone.

“Sorry!” He exclaimed apologetically.

“No problem, just watch where you’re going next time. Don’t want to walk into the wrong thing.” _Strange phrasing but… okay,_ Sam thought, nodding and moving on.

“What did you mean-” he asked, spinning on his heels to ask the man a question, but was cut short. He was gone. Not walking away or sitting on a bench. Gone. Disappeared.

_Weird._

Miracle barked and Dean got up from the table, checking to see what was going on, relieved to find it was just his brother returning home.

“Perfect timing! Eileen’s putting food on plates.” He walked back into the kitchen, Sam and Miracle with him, just as the toaster popped. Dean grabbed the toast, since Eileen’s back was turned to it, and gave it to her.

Sam put his hand on his partner’s arm and they shared a quick peck before the plates were dished out.

Dean finished his breakfast quickly, giving his leftovers to Miracle discreetly (or so he thought) under the table. Sam used the time to talk and push away his feelings of worry, though they kept forcing their way up, so he ended up ignoring them instead of getting rid of them. He would deal with it later.

When the face of his watch caught his eye, Dean finished cleaning his weapons and put them away. News articles would be updated by now, so it would be easier to find a case.

Miracle sat in a chair beside him as he searched on his laptop. Not for a case anymore, as the man had distracted himself. Now, he was looking at various pies, neatly presented on the screen.

“There’s nothing from police or social media,” Sam said and sat opposite his brother, opening his own device. “Find anything?”

Dean doesn’t respond, as he hadn’t heard Sam’s question.

“Dean?” His brother acknowledged that, bringing his gaze up to meet Sam’s.

“Not just anything, Sammy. Something great.”

The boys drove to where Dean’s ‘something great’ was located. Eileen had offered to look after Miracle while they were out.

“Really, Dean? _This_ is what was so important?” Sam complained, having sat in the car for three hours for this.

“Quiet,” Dean commanded, offended that his brother thought so lowly of his find. “Relish in this beautiful sight.”

“You’re- are you crying?” Sam asked.

“What? No, I’m not crying. You’re crying.” He looked up at Sam, pride in his eyes from his own comment, before striding towards the event.

The pair were greeted with a banner reading _‘Welcome to the 43rd Annual Akron Pie Fest!’_ A banner that put a smile on Dean’s face.

While Dean gawked over the pies, Sam entertained himself by looking around, finding his own that he could bring home to Eileen for dessert later.

He thanked the vendor and took a seat, holding the pie box carefully.

“See, you’re glad I dragged your ass here,” Dean commented, sitting beside Sam with a box containing six slices of pie. Sam didn’t say anything in response, seeing the look Dean shot at him, and elected not to say anything.

“What’s wrong?” Despite the constant joking and teasing, Dean could tell when something was up.

“I’m—”

“—‘I’m fine’,” Dean mocked. “You’ve been spooked since we got everyone back, so don’t give me that crap.”

Sam caved, speaking his mind. “It just doesn’t feel right, you know? Like there’s a catch. I mean, Jack just _left_ after telling us Cas was in Heaven. Something doesn’t sit right with me, and I don’t know what.”

“Cas is gonna be down here when he’s done fixing whatever in Heaven, okay? You got your girl back, and I got my best friend.” Of course, he was talking about Miracle. Dogs may not be man’s best friend, but this one was certainly Dean’s. “So stop being friggin’ Eeyore, and enjoy the little things, like this!” He gestured excitedly to his assortment of pies.

Almost as if on cue, Sam chose that moment to take one of the slices and shove it into Dean’s face, letting out a laugh as he did so.

“You’re right,” he chuckled. “I definitely enjoyed that.”

“You’re sure you’ll be okay here?” Sam signed to Eileen. Hunting wasn’t her profession anymore but it still haunted her. If something happened to her while Sam was working, he’d never forgive himself—still hadn’t forgiven himself for her death three years ago.

It was Chuck’s fault that Sam was worrying so much. He killed Eileen with the snap of his fingers. Jack may have been God, but that didn’t mean something else couldn’t come between them.

“I promise,” Eileen signed back and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll still be here when you get back. It’s less than a day, nothing’s getting me. Not unless it’s old age.” Sam smiled softly, nodding.

“Good. I love you,” he replied, taking his bag and waiting for Dean outside.

“He’ll loosen his grip, don’t worry. Things like this happen and he gets all touchy-feely, scared history’ll repeat.” Dean said, keeping his words clear and understandable to her, then joined his brother.

Despite blood spatter on the walls and furniture, the house’s interior seemed almost impossibly untouched. Save for the dead bodies, of course. Those were a not-so-festive decorative choice.

“Ackles, Padalecki. FBI.” Dean held his badge up to the woman as he spoke, Sam following suit.

“Like the actors?” She asked. “You look exactly like them.”

“Thank you for the compliment, officer,” he said with a prideful smile. “We get that a lot, but I can assure you that if we were actors, we wouldn’t be working crime scenes.”

“Bodies were missing parts, correct?” Sam butt in, trying to diminish the attention drawn to their fake badges. “Eyes, organs, limbs.”

“Yes, that’s right. Not the first scene like this, either. Half a dozen others, making their way up here.”

“You don’t mind if we?” Sam gestured to the scene, getting a nod of confirmation from the police officer.

It was horrific. A couple, their eyes stolen, bodies sliced open without a bother to be stitched up again. Only time they’d seen something like this was… _crap_.

Both brothers exited the scene, heading straight to Baby, and drove off.

“This isn’t a regular serial killer, Dean. You and I both know it isn’t.”

“Of course I know! These sons of bitches killed Charlie, so yeah, I freakin’ know!” Dean leafed through his own journal—he’d made a habit of it after he got back from Purgatory, to map what he knew about the things he hunted.

“There’s gotta be a reason they’re here, right? I mean, they’ve always been driven by something, all the way from the 1800s to now. There’s a motive.” Dean didn’t respond, reading his writing with a serious look on his face.

“I get how much you hate these guys but you gotta focus, alright?”

“Yeah.” There was reluctance in his tone. “Yeah, I’m focusing.”

“Bullet to the brain, you said that keeps ‘em down, so we’ll do that. Quick and easy.”

“It better be. I’m getting too old for this crap.” Sam made a face, wanting to protest, but the truth was that yeah, Dean was getting to an age where he should actually live his life, not just survive it.

Just surviving is not living, and they both deserved to truly live, especially after all they’d been through—all they’d sacrificed.

“This actually the place?” Dean asked skeptically. It was a barn, too unclean for these people. If you could even call them that.

“Yeah, it is. Eileen figured out the pattern, this is the next place on the list.” Sam trusted her judgement more than he trusted a lot of people’s, including Dean’s, _sometimes_.

“If you say so.” The trunk opened with a slight squeak, not for lack of care though, and Dean lifted the fake bottom up. “Ohh, awesome.” A box of shurikens (or, as they’re popularly known as: ninja stars) lay there, begging to be used.

“Dude.” Sam didn’t look impressed.

“Come on, just once.” The look didn’t let up but Sam still caved.

“Fine. Don’t lose them. And take the machete just in case.” Dean actually brought the machete, though he’d usually leave it for the sole purpose of defying Sam’s wishes, since it was fun. This time, however, he didn’t screw around.

Moonlight was blocked almost completely by the rickety walls, only allowing small slivers to escape. The floor creaked with every footstep, so the boys concluded that stealth was going to get them nowhere.

“Eyes up,” Dean whispered, gesturing to the room and his lips, telling Sam to stay quiet. Sam nodded in response, his gun trained at eye-level so he was ready for whatever came.

Neither man actually knew what they were getting into, as they’d severely underestimated the firepower of their foes.

Dean was knocked to the floor with a loud thud, a man straddling him with a knife to his throat.

“It’s been five long, long years of searching for you, Winchester. Five years I will never get back.” A foreign accent that Dean couldn’t quite place, maybe German? Or some derivation of it (it was Swiss).

“It’s him—” Sam called before getting pinned to the wall. “Dean, I saw him yesterday!” Dean was struggling against his grip, and Sam didn’t have enough room to move himself.

This man gave Dean a flashy, cocky smile. “The name’s Leon Styne,” he said. _Of course!_ “For the stories I’ve heard, you’re not very hard to handle.”

“Hard to handle, huh?” Dean let out a dry, slightly pained chuckle. “Sorry to uh, burst your bubble, but you’re not really my type.” _Hair’s too blonde. Coat’s too dark._

“You truly are hilarious. It’s a shame I will kill you though, but you slaughtered my people. I can’t stand for that.”

“And you murdered my family.” Dean managed to work his hand free and shoot the man in the head, rolling from where the body would drop before it did. “Sam!” He yelled, shooting the other guy.

“Thanks,” Sam breathed. “That was… surprisingly easy, right?”

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, the younger Winchester regretted it. More men invaded—five, to be precise, which for guys this difficult to take down, was a lot.

“Two lives for the price of seven. Hardly seems fair, but it’ll have to do,” another Styne exclaimed, shoving Sam out of the way of Dean, who had just gotten to his feet.

“Fellas, please, let’s just talk this out, huh? Like, uh- like therapy!” Dean dodged a punch and stabbed his opponent, seemingly doing no damage. “Motherf—” he was cut short when a sharp pain jabbed his side, searing straight through. Dean being Dean, however, continued fighting; hopped up on adrenaline.

He took his ninja stars and threw two of them, slicing the necks of his enemies. _Actually pretty effective_ , Dean thought when the men bled out quicker than expected, and threw another at the man Sam was in mid-combat against.

Sam took a knife wound to the arm—though it was only cosmetic, not dealing any mortal damage. His attacker dropped to his knees, crimson gushing from his jugular.

Dean struggled against this next Styne member, his shirt soaking and steeping red. “Sam!” He called for his brother’s assistance, who killed his own opponent before decapitating Dean’s.

“You okay, little brother?” Dean asked through gritted teeth, though he was the one bleeding out against a pillar.

“You- you’re bleeding. Dean, tell me you’re okay. Please.” His voice was pained and desperate.

“Sammy…” He pressed against his side and brought his hand—now imbrued with blood—up to eye-level, a surprised, yet tired, look on his face. “I don’t think that’s good…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates come when they do, okay? I'm _slow_


	2. Bring It On Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the pain.  
> Emotions are addressed, letters are written, all-round it's just _pain_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for delay, I was too busy sobbing trying to write it. I hope you guys enjoy the emotional trauma I got from writing this, because I sure did! /s  
> Seriously though, I hope this is acceptable at least.
> 
> It says posted on Feb. 2nd but for me it's the 3rd oop-

“I got you. You’re getting out of here.” Sam’s attempts to reassure his brother were fruitless, Dean waving him away, knowing his fate. Though the weapon itself was no longer embedded in him, he could still feel where it had sliced, the somewhat sudden shock causing him to sputter a cough.

“No. You can’t, Sam,” he choked out through winded breaths. The younger Winchester’s phone was already in his hand, 9-1-1 dialled. “Sam, don’t.” Dean didn’t have the energy to argue right now.

“My- my brother, he’s been stabbed. It’s pretty bad.” Dean’s attention wavered as he tried to stay awake. He distantly heard Sam give their address, though he was more focused on not dying. Not giving up, for Sam’s sake.

“Sammy.” The name drew Sam over. “Stay wi—” he winced, pushing the pain as far as he could “—stay with me. Please.” He looked up at Sam, taking in every detail of his baby brother’s face as if this was his last chance. It sure felt like his last chance.

“Okay,” Sam said, hanging up the phone. “I’m not leaving without you.”

The room dimmed for a few seconds but Dean continued holding on. Holding onto Sam, to the look in his eyes. That damned desperate, puppy-dog look, telling Dean to stay.

“Listen up. You… you get gone, alright? Before the cops show up.” Sam shook his head, opening his mouth to protest. Dean immediately shut him down. “You do that. I was supposed to go out like this, right? At the edge of a blade or the barrel of a gun, blaze o’ glory style. You… you’re gonna live a good life with Eileen. You’re gonna raise a kid, just like I raised you. And _most importantly_ , you’re gonna look after Miracle and Baby, or I swear I’ll haunt you.” The last part was mostly a joke. The most important thing was actually taking care of himself and his future family.

“Stop talking like that. We’re both making it out, okay? Because I’m not leaving you here.”

“Yes you are. We had one hell of a ride but now… now it’s my stop.” Dean took a deep breath, preparing himself. “I’m not gonna make it outta here, so I gotta say some things, okay?” He took Sam’s near-silence as his cue.

“I am so goddamn proud of you, you know that? Since we were kids, I’ve always looked up to you, at the man you grew into.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m taller than you, Dean,” his brother interjected.

“Shut up,” Dean teased, continuing. “You’ve always been so smart. Hell, you got into Stanford, man. _Stanford_. I never could’ve done that.” He paused, remembering one of the most significant moments of his life. “You remember that night, when I came to get you?”

“When you broke into my dorm.”

“Minor details, Sam. Point is, I must’ve stood there for hours, thinking about what you’d say to me. Thought you’d tell me to get lost, or get dead. I was so scared you’d push me away, ‘cause it’s _always_ been me and you. But now? Now we have a family. I don’t want you to lose that just because I’m gone.”

“I’m not- I can’t. Dean, please… I can’t lose you. I can’t do this alone.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Well, I don’t want to.”

“You got everyone in your corner now, and I’m not leaving. Not really. I’ll be right here,” he put his fist against Sam’s chest. “It’s my job to look out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother, right? Why do you think that is?”

“Because Dad said—”

“No, genius. It’s because you’re my baby brother, and I love you so much. Don’t you dare forget that.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

“Come on, no chick-flick moments. You get all sappy and it just ruins it,” Dean teased. “I need you to do something for me, okay? I need you to tell me it’s okay.”

“No. I can’t.”

“Sammy, please. I need… I need you to tell me that it’s okay. Tell me it’s okay.”

“It’s okay, Dean. You can go now. It’s okay.” Sam didn’t want to say goodbye, he wanted to save him. Wanted his brother to live.

“See you on the other side, Sammy.”

“See you on the other side.” Dean smiled at that and his head dropped forward, Sam catching him and hugging him, as if that would miraculously bring him back.

Sirens drew closer. Sam had his jacket pressed against Dean’s side, stopping the bleeding as much as he could. When he saw lights outside, he lifted his brother and carried him outside, which took a lot of strength, but he did it.

“Help him! Please!” A stretcher was brought out and Sam lay Dean on it, EMTs did what they could to keep the blood inside of the man’s body, taking him into the ambulance and making their exit.

Sam’s arm was patched up by a paramedic, told to stay at the site, and he was questioned by police. Finally able to leave, he drove to the nearest hospital, because that’s where they’d take him.

“Frank Feranna?” A nurse called as she walked into the waiting room. Sam stood up.

“That’s me.” It had been a long few hours but finally, maybe, he could see Dean.

“This way, Mr. Feranna.” She led him into another room, where his brother lay with a nasal cannula attached to his face. Not the first time he’d seen Dean like that—or the worst condition—and he hoped it would be the last. For a long, long time, at least.

“How is he?”

“He’s alive, and he’s stable. Fortunately, his major organs were missed, though he suffered from a lot of internal bleeding. We’ll reassess once he wakes up but he should make a full recovery, given time.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll give you two some time. If you need anything, call for a nurse.” Sam nodded and the woman left, leaving Sam alone with Dean. The only sound was his breathing and the soft beeping of monitors.

“I, uh…” Sam cleared his throat. “What you said, back in that old house, how you were proud of who I was. That was all because of _you_ , Dean. You were more of a father than Dad ever was. That’s why I even went to Stanford, because you thought I was smart enough, and that was a good enough reason for me.” He felt a sense of embarrassment, saying this to Dean _,_ of all people.

 _If you were awake, you’d be givin’ me so much crap right now_. He smiled fondly at the thought, because it would mean Dean was awake and back to his normal self, not some shell in a hospital bed.

“You said you’re proud of me. I’m proud of _us_. Of the people we’ve met and the family we’ve found along the way. Yeah, it was just me and you all those years ago, but it’s more than us now, and you have to be around so you can live a life with those people.” Sam leaned his elbows on the bedside, resting his chin on his hands in an almost prayer-like position.

 _Cas_ , he began, _wherever you are, Heaven or Earth, I’m here with Dean at William Newton Hospital. He’s alive. Get here when you can._

He’d expected a sudden appearance but wasn’t surprised when there was no response. Castiel and Dean did share a ‘profound bond’, after all. Though Sam knew what that was code for.

“Sam,” a deep voice announced, waking the man from his fitful sleep. He turned in his seat, seeing that the voice belonged to none other than Castiel. “Is he alright?”

“Cas—” Sam was taken by surprise, given it was the middle of the night. “—they said he’ll make a full recovery but I was thinking maybe you could heal him, so we can go home.”

“Of course. Anything for Dean.” The angel was tense, Sam could tell. _What’s up with you?_ He thought, keeping the question unspoken.

Castiel hesitantly put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. Sam wondered why the action was so light, so resistant. Unbeknownst to him, it was the last place he’d touched the hunter before he died, not knowing whether his feelings—of which were new, despite having been burning for over a decade—were one-sided or not.

A soft glow emanated from Cas’ hand, bringing Dean’s face back to life, despite the man being _alive_. The angel made for the door before turning around. “Sam,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“When Dean wakes up, give him this.” A small envelope was placed on the bedside table.

“Yeah, sure. Don’t you want to—” He was gone, as suddenly as he’d appeared.

Sam hadn’t slept after that. He wouldn’t until he was sure Dean was okay.

As if fated, Dean stirred slightly, gaining Sam’s attention that had previously been on nothing except staring out the window.

“Dean? You awake?” The older Winchester’s eyes opened and scanned the room, landing on Sam.

“Sammy? What’d I miss?” His voice was tired, croaky. Understandable, considering the ordeal he went through.

“Not much. You got pretty beat up but the ambulance got to you in time. Saved your ass.” Sam chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

“You gonna sit there or help me get outta here?” Dean was already taking various pieces of equipment off of himself, lucky that his angel had healed him so he could actually do so.

With surprisingly little grief, the pair managed to check Dean out of the hospital, and were on the road quickly.

“You sure you’re okay? No complications at all?”

“Yeah, Sam. I’m sure. Hell, I’m _really-pretty_ sure.” He ogled at the sleek, black car in front of him as if he hadn’t laid eyes on it in years, though it’d only been a couple days (thanks to Castiel, of course). “Keys.” Sam tossed them to him and got in, riding shotgun.

The engine roared to life before quieting down to a low rumble. Dean might’ve never gotten the chance to see his Baby again, had Sam actually listened to him instead of trying to save him.

“If you need a break, tell me and we can swap over,” Sam suggested.

“If I need a break? You’re acting like I’m half-dead, Sam. Got a long way to go till then.” Sam let himself smile, just a little, at that.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Baby’s engine revved as they drove out of the parking lot and onto the road, Dean noticing every small glance Sam sent his way but electing to ignore them for now.

Three hours spent cycling through Dean’s mixtapes, and the bunker finally came into view. Dean took his bag and slung it over his shoulder, going inside as if nothing happened; because as far as he remembered, nothing bad had happened.

As soon as he opened the door, Dean was greeted by Miracle’s bark as the furry beast bounded towards him at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, buddy. Miss me?” He scratched Miracle behind the ears and under his chin, letting the dog know his love was reciprocated.

“You’re back!” Eileen signed—and spoke, for Dean’s sake—happily, as she’d followed Miracle into the entryway. She hugged Dean, which he thought was strange, given they were only out on a hunt.

“Hey, Eileen. See, Sammy? Told you it’d all be fine.” He parted with Eileen and played with Miracle as he left, going to his room.

“Is everything okay with him?” Eileen asked.

“Seems to be. There’s no reason it wouldn’t be. I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth, y’know?” He set his bag down on the table, turning around to continue speaking. “If he says he’s okay, then he is.”

“What about you? Are you okay?”

“In all honesty? I was terrified when it happened, and I’m still a little scared. I’ll get over it. Let’s just enjoy what we’ve got, okay?” He smiled somewhat reassuringly, and Eileen dropped the subject for the moment.

Dean sat on the edge of his bed, Miracle’s head on his lap. Something inside him, in his heart, just didn’t feel right. An unfilled space, waiting for something to fit into it.

“I’m okay. Just miss him,” he reassured Miracle, who was now gazing up at him with big, dark eyes. “He’ll be back. He always comes back.”

A light rapping of knuckles on the door interrupted the moment. “Dean? I, uh. I have something for you.” Dean dragged himself off the bed and opened the door. “Here.”

“What is it?”

“No idea. It’s from Cas.”

“You’ve seen Cas?! Where is he? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s okay. Stopped in at the hospital while you were out. Said to give you that.” An envelope sat in Dean’s hands now, and he gave Sam a distant ‘thanks’ before retreating, closing the door behind him.

Now on the bed again, Dean opened the envelope and emptied it into his hand, revealing a note, a cassette tape and a small vial attached to a chain, emitting a soft, blue glow. He unfolded the note, reading it quietly to himself.

_‘Dean,_

_I’ve been keeping this letter for a while, trying to find a good time to give it to you. Whenever you receive this, I hope it’s a convenient time._

_You are so, incredibly selfless. Everything you do is for the benefit of others. Not once in all my millions of years have I been intrigued and amazed by a single human in such a way as I have been by you. Watching over you, interacting and living as you have, I’ve learned about humanity, about care. I’ve learned what it means to love the things around me—the people around me._

_I learned all of that because you taught me, indirectly, of course. You raised, and still care for, your brother out of love. You carry burdens you don’t need to, out of love. You give a piece of yourself to everything out of love._

_Everything I’ve ever seen you do is because you care, and seeing the things you care about have happiness gives you that same happiness. When it comes down to it, what you are, Dean, is what humans were intended to be. That is why I fell in love with humanity._

_Fell in love with you._

_Despite everything you’ve been through, every obstacle you’ve been faced with, you’re still you._

_Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester._

_P.S. (this is something humans do, correct?) Take this piece of me with you, to remind you that I’ll always owe my humanity to you, because you’re my humanity.’_

Dean made sure the note was folded over as neatly as it had been before and placed on the bedside table with a shaky sigh. He held the necklace tightly in his palm.

“Cas,” he began his prayer to the angel. “I know that we’ve had a hell of a lot of fights, and I know I keep pushing you away. I just- I’ve always been too scared to say it. Scared that if I say it, you’ll be gone, or that my freakin’ dad’ll raise from the dead just to yell at me about it. Again.” He ran his free hand over the back of his head, muttering a few choice words aimed at himself and his father, trying to build up his confidence. “I love you too, Cas. Everything in me is telling me not to, that it’s wrong, but I do. Wherever you are, I hope you can hear this. I hope you’ll come back.”

Castiel’s tape sat on the bed beside Dean, and he stared at it for a short while before deciding to pick it up. _‘Castiel’_ was written on it, which made Dean smile as he put it into his Walkman and put his headphones on. He leaned against the headboard, Miracle still right by his side, of course, and let the music—familiar songs, ones he’d played to Cas in the past—wash over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back at school now (it’s not online) so updates will be slow. It’s a big exam year so studying is _important_


End file.
